A Grave Mistake (9 page)

They approached the old, slate stone that marked the grave of Ezra Finch. It wasn’t anything extraordinary—tall, with a rounded tombstone top and a weeping willow engraved on it.

As they stood there looking down at it, the snow started. Big, fat flakes landed silently on their jackets. One fluttered onto Morgan's eyelashes, obstructing her view, and she brushed it away.

Jolene squatted in front of the gravestone.

“Maybe this stone has a hidden compartment in it, like the one we found out west,” she said, referring to an old gravestone on another of their missions that had a secret housed in a slide-out piece at the base.

“It would be a perfect place to hide a clue.” Fiona wrapped her purple scarf around her neck. The snowflakes, which were falling faster now, stuck to her red hair like confetti.

Jolene pushed at the bottom of the stone, trying each of the four corners. “It doesn’t seem like this one has a compartment.”

Morgan was only half-paying attention. Something to the east caught her eye. The visibility was slowly being cut down by the storm, so it wasn’t something she could see, but more something she could feel.

“What is it?” Jolene looked back over her shoulder in the direction of Morgan’s gaze.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just jittery.” The storm was closing in, causing white-out conditions. She could barely see twenty feet away. The gravestones took on an eerie cast as they faded into the white background. Anyone could be out there and they wouldn’t see them until it was too late. “Maybe we should come back later.”

Jolene stood and brushed the snow from her pants. “Maybe. I can’t find the compartment and I don’t see how Ezra could hide something in his own gravestone, anyway.”

“Maybe he didn’t hide it … maybe he left the clue right on the stone.” Celeste brushed the snow off the face of the stone and pointed at the inscription.

Morgan shielded her eyes and squinted at the rock through the driving snow. The inscription was typical, with the names, birth and death dates of Ezra and Lila-Mae Finch.

Celeste stepped closer to the stone. Tapping her finger on the poem inscribed below the names, she read it out loud.

“When two become one, the healing’s begun. In my favorite place under the sun. Look to the west, I can finally rest.”

“So you think that’s the clue?” Fiona asked.

“Hey, wait! It looks like there’s more below.” Jolene squatted down again and brushed the snow that had accumulated in front of the stone. Just under the inscription, Morgan could see another line at the very bottom, almost under the soil line.

“What’s that say?” Celeste bent down to look at it.

“I can only see the tops of the letters. I can't make out what they actually are.”

Morgan noticed the wind had picked up considerably and the visibility had faded to almost nothing. A tingling at the back of her neck told her danger was near.

Jolene dug furiously at the soil with her gloved finger. “The ground is frozen. I can’t uncover the last line.” She had to shout over the wind to be heard.

“Something’s not right!” Morgan looked around at her sisters and saw her concern mirrored in their eyes. The wind whipped their hair around their faces as they glanced around uneasily.

Morgan’s heart sank. She could barely see two feet in front of her. She wondered if they could even make it back to the car when the wind increased, picking up the snowflakes from the ground and whipping them around, creating blizzard conditions.

She shouted for her sisters, but the wind snatched the words out of her mouth. The only sound she could hear was the gusting of the wind. The snow—so soft and fluffy just minutes ago—stung her cheeks like shards of ice. She whirled around, totally disoriented, her heart thudding in her chest.

Feeling an evil presence near them, she stumbled backward, the wind pushing at her, causing her to topple over. She crashed to the ground, pain searing her right arm and hip. She struggled to get back up, but the wind was too strong. It pinned her to the ground.

Crack!

Morgan felt a sharp pain above her right ear. And then, there was nothing but darkness.

***

Morgan woke to a mouth full of snow and a splitting headache. Her right side was practically frozen solid and she realized she was lying on the ground. Then she remembered what had happened. Her eyes flew open, focusing on Jolene, who lay ten feet away under a large tree limb.

Morgan, herself, had some smaller branches on top of her, but she easily pushed them off and ran over to her sister. Relief spread through her as she noticed Fiona and Celeste sitting up and shaking snow off their coats. Not Jolene, though. She lay as still as death.

“Jo! Are you okay?” Morgan ripped off her gloves and knelt in the snow, pressing two fingers on Jolene’s neck. Her heart squeezed at Jolene’s ghostly, white cheeks, but she had a pulse and her eyelashes fluttered slightly.

“Jolene! Wake up!” Fiona and Celeste moved the tree limb and joined Morgan beside their younger sister.

Jolene’s ice-blue eyes flickered open and looked around, unfocused. Worry gnawed at Morgan’s gut as she watched her sister push up to a sitting position, her brow furrowed as she looked around at Morgan, Fiona and Celeste in confusion.

“What’s going on?” Jolene asked.

“Good question,” Celeste replied. “There was a storm and you got hit by a tree limb.”

Jolene looked at the large limb Celeste indicated and then past Morgan. Morgan followed her gaze. The snow and wind had stopped, but the cemetery looked a mess. Glancing up, Morgan could see the white, raw wood where the large limb had sheared off from the big, old oak tree. Smaller branches lay strewn about. But that wasn’t the most startling sight. The most startling site was Ezra Finch’s gravestone. It lay smashed in a million jagged pieces. Now they’d never know what that last line was.

“Are you okay?” Morgan asked again as they helped Jolene to her feet.

“Yes, of course.” Jolene made a face. “It takes a lot more than a little branch to hurt me.”

Morgan raised her left brow at Fiona and Celeste. The fuzzy look in Jolene’s eyes had cleared and she
seemed
fine, but Morgan didn’t want to take any chances. Trouble was, Jolene was stubborn and probably wouldn’t listen to them if they wanted her to see a doctor. Morgan tried anyway. “I think we’d better take you to the hospital and get you checked out.”

“No. No. I’m fine.” Jolene pushed her sisters away and took a step forward. She was a little wobbly, but not too bad. She turned in a slow circle, looking all around them, her forehead creasing in a wrinkle that got deeper and deeper the more she looked.

“What the heck are we doing in a graveyard?”

Chapter Eleven

“If you can’t remember what we were doing at Finch’s, then I think you need a doctor.” Morgan looked across the kitchen island at Jolene’s pale face and regretted letting her sister talk her into taking her home instead of to the hospital.

Johanna gave Jolene a motherly frown. “She’s right. You could have a concussion.”

“Concussion? What happened?” Jake stood in the kitchen doorway, his face a mask of concern.

“A tree limb fell on Jolene and knocked her out,” Morgan explained.

Jake crossed the kitchen and stood in front of Jolene. He tilted her head up toward the light and pried her eyelid open.

“Ouch!” She pulled away, covering her eye with her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Checking your pupils. I used to be a cop, remember? I know a little bit about concussions,” Jake said. “Are you feeling nauseous or dizzy? Any blurred vision, headache, forgetfulness?”

“No. No. And no,” Jolene said.

“Well, you
did
forget why we were at the Finch farm,” Celeste pointed out.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to the hospital,” Jolene said.

“Her pupils look okay and she doesn’t seem to have any other symptoms. I guess we just watch her and make sure she doesn't show any signs of concussion. We can't force her to go to the hospital if she's too stubborn to know what's good for her.” He shrugged. “How did you guys make out on the farm, anyway? Did you find a new clue? And how did the tree branch fall?”

The three sisters filled Jake and Johanna in on the trip to the cemetery, the clue on the gravestone and the strange, windy snowstorm. Luckily, Luke came in at the beginning so they didn’t have to repeat themselves. Jolene leaned against the counter, unusually silent, taking it all in.

“Do you think the strange storm was some kind of paranormal force?” Luke asked.

“Maybe.” Morgan looked at her sisters and they nodded. “If a paranormal can control energy, then why not the energy of the wind?”

Luke nodded. “There’re forces out there we can’t even imagine. But is this wind person in cahoots with Bly?”

“Good question,” Fiona said. “We don't know who it was or who they were in cahoots with.”

“It sounds like the trip out to the farm was eventful, but did it give you guys have a new lead on the relic?” Jake asked.

Fiona nodded. “Obviously the clue couldn’t have been on the obelisk, so we think it was the epitaph on Ezra’s gravestone. There was a poem on there and we think it might be the clue.”

“Too bad we never got to read the bottom line of it,” Celeste added.

“Why not?” Luke asked.

“The stone must have settled over the years and the very bottom was under the ground line. We could just see the tops of the letters but not enough to tell what letter it was,” Fiona explained.

“And the stone blew to smithereens in the wind storm,” Celeste added.

Jake snorted. “That must have been some wind storm. I don’t think wind can blow up a stone.”

Luke nodded, his face turning serious. “That’s right. Whoever caused that must have some power. I want you girls to be extra careful from here on in. I’ll put more guys on detail watching you.”

Morgan sighed. She would have argued, but she knew it was futile. Luke was serious about safety, especially when it came to her. Which did make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, except for the part where someone followed her around. At least Luke’s guys were inconspicuous—she hardly knew they were there most of the time.

“But why would Bly—or whoever—want to smash the gravestone?”

“Probably so no one else could figure out the clue,” Celeste said.

“Then it must be really important,” Luke said. “That bottom line could be the key to finding the relic.”

Jake’s right brow ticked up. “Maybe we could go back and piece it together?”

Celeste shook her head. “The pieces are too small.”

Johanna pressed her lips together. “I bet Cal could figure it out if you girls could draw the tops of the letters.”

Morgan thought about that. Cal, an antique dealer by trade, loved history and one of his specialties was codes and encryption. He’d figured things out for them before. Too bad she couldn’t remember what the bottom of the stone looked like. “I don’t remember exactly what it looked like.”

“That’s okay. We have a secret weapon that can help us even if the bad guys destroyed the clue.” Jake looked at Jolene. “Put your photographic memory to use and draw out what the top of that line looked like.”

A look of panic crossed Jolene’s face. “I can’t. I don’t remember.”

Morgan’s stomach sank. Was Jolene’s memory gone for good? Hopefully not. But right now, they needed it. She glanced at her sisters and she could tell they were all thinking the same thing. What other unique skills had Jolene lost in the accident?

Jolene noticed everyone looking at her and scrunched up her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Morgan answered for them.

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. I can still use my paranormal gifts.”

Jolene thrust her hand out as if to shoot off an energy spark. Nothing happened, and she put it in front of her frowning face. “Well, I think I can.” She thrust it out again, harder this time.

“Hey, don’t vaporize my favorite crystal lamp over there in the living room. You're pointing right at it,” Johanna warned.

But she didn’t need to worry about the lamp. Jolene couldn’t muster any energy. No matter how hard she focused, the best she could do was produce a teeny, glowing pink drop which formed at the end of her fingertip then fell off, disappearing into nothing before it hit the floor.

The forlorn look on Jolene’s face tugged at Morgan’s heart. She put her arm around her little sister. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just the effects of getting knocked out. I’m sure your gifts will come back.”

She hoped her words were true. Jolene was the most powerful of all the sisters and they’d have a hard time defending themselves without her skills. Morgan made a mental note to try to develop her own defensive paranormal skill.

“So, what do we do now?” Luke asked. “There’s at least two groups in town looking for the relic and if you guys don’t have any clue at all, how can we possibly hope to find it before they do?”

“I wouldn’t say we don’t have any clue at all,” Morgan said. “I think the rest of the epitaph might tell us something, even though we won’t know what the bottom says.”